


21 hours, 6 minutes. Act 2

by Orion_The_Poet



Series: 21 hours, 6 minutes [2]
Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Flashbacks, Gen, Swearing, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 05:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30084021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orion_The_Poet/pseuds/Orion_The_Poet
Summary: The group moves south towards Disease Control Headquarters.
Series: 21 hours, 6 minutes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746766
Kudos: 1





	21 hours, 6 minutes. Act 2

**Prologue**

Red sunlight passes over the pages. I close the book in front of me and let out a hearty yawn. Just as I’m about to take a sip of warm whiskey, I hear a knock on my door. I finish moistening my lips with this godly poison and groan contently.

“Come in!”

It opens. I throw my pen on the desk.

“Ah, Gabriel! Glad to see you!”

“Likewise, Caulfield.”

I stand up and motion at the leather chairs before me.

“Please, sit down!”

The blonde man wearily falls on one of the chairs, but quickly leans forwards.

“ _Merci_. I bring updates from the southern grid.”

“Yes?”

“It’s fortified now. Our team did a great job.”

“Outstanding!”

“But my concern is still with the supports. Water affects them greatly. It’s possible we might have to replace them.”

I run my hand through my hair and stride towards the liquor cabinet with my glass in tow.

“You look beat. Want me to fix you anything?”

“No, sir. I’m good.”

I screw open one of the bottles and fill the glass up. It doesn’t stay that way for long. I wait for the burning feeling to pass and then turn towards the guest.

“How soon do we have to deal with it?”

“Definitely before winter.”

“Which is basically here already… Has Jackson kept the church functional?”

Gabriel sighs and shrugs.

“He’s always doing something, but he rarely shares his comings and goings with me.”

“I see. I trust you know the drill though?”

“Yes.”

“Construction needs distraction. This means danger to us.”

“ _Bien entendu_ , sir.”

I return next to my desk, taking a seat on it.

“Tell Jackson to begin preparing for Charlie-5 and to report back to me. I’ll have a talk with him about being more considerate to others when it comes to his missions.”

He nods and stands up.

“Shall I leave you?”

“Hold for a tad. How's the morale?”

“Depends on who you mean.”

I send him a knowing glance. He chuckles and nods.

“They’re fine. Although…”

I tilt my head in sudden curiosity as Gabriel tries to hide his sly smile.

“Go on.”

“Let’s just say they’re anxious for you to return.”

Sunset is in full swing. I take a moment to admire the view from the office. Despite being enchanted by the sight, my silence is noticed by Gabriel.

“Are you alright, sir?”

“I’m just daydreaming. Been writing again, you see.”

I gesture at the leather-bound book in front of me.

“Now that I think about it, I should really keep my focus on official matters…”

“You’ve done an excellent job. No-one will be angry if you take some time for family.”

“I know that, but I feel like I have to be hands-on all the time.”

“It’s just a few days. I’m sure you can appoint someone to cover for you.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. You’ve earned it!”

I fall into thought. My sight wanders at the one and only picture on my desk.

“I should take my leave now,” Gabriel says and walks to the door.

“One more thing,” I say, prying my eyes from the picture. “Would you please stop calling me “sir” all the time? Others have started to do it as well. It’s getting ridiculous!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why not?!”

Gabriel twists the doorknob and lets out a teasing laugh.

“Your title demands it.”

* * *

_Door closes and I’m engulfed by darkness. Fear has stripped my body bare, but the roaring thunder outside acts as a comforting blanket. Raindrops masking my labored breathing, I take careful steps in the room, making sure to move as quietly as possible. I keep my hands stretched forwards should something evil pop up, but the hand clutching an already soaked tire iron starts to feel exhausted. It would be easy to escape if I knew where the exits are, but in my rush to finally spend the night with some friendly faces, I forgot to turn my attention on the layout of this massive house._

_I never should’ve let my guard down, I quarrel with myself, especially when stumbling onto people that have survived for this long. I never should’ve let myself be dazed by the chance of companionship. I never should’ve let such desperation grab a hold of me. However, when one has been traveling solo for this long, it was bound to happen. A rookie mistake – one that I finally had to pay for._

_How many steps do I have to take? How could a room be so empty that it seems to stretch straight to hell and back? Perhaps this isn’t a room after all, but an endless punishment for a sin I committed just minutes ago. Perhaps the blinding flashes aren’t lightning, but a sneak peek of a torment I’ll surely know: a display of a new kind of pain, received with methods of torture so alien that it’s hard to even imagine._

_Just when my hope wanes, my hands collide with something. Before I throw caution in the wind and betray my location by booking either left or right, I slide the tire iron on my belt and use my hands to slowly edge along the surface of this obstacle. Even though my hands shake so hard that they occasionally slip due to all the blood dripping from them, it doesn’t take too long to figure out that there’s a door in front of me. I can’t begin to believe my luck – it’s as if a guardian angel, or maybe God himself, has given me a chance for a quick escape. My heart beats furiously, because this means that as soon as I find the handle, I can get out of this place._

_I rush out of the room and immediately stumble on a wooden railing. My shock is only temporary, because the ever-flashing lightning guides me past all the ancient paintings and grandiose doors, some of which surely lead any unfortunate soul into different parts of the void I just escaped from. Even the stairs don’t stop me from reaching the main exit as fast as possible. The desire to flee pressures me to take three or four steps at once. It’s dangerous indeed, but the inescapable panic has finally taken control. Because of this, I fall face first on a carpeted floor with a nauseating thump._

_There is no time, I keep repeating myself. I need to get moving, I scream to my aching head and sore muscles, but the sudden miscalculation of something as simple as a footstep has rendered me useless for the time being. I groan and writhe on the floor like a beaten dog, trying so desperately to get my body moving, but it’s all in vain._

_I feel around myself, but instead of the tire iron that flew from my hands I only find more carpet. Soon I have to stop searching for it, because I’m startled by something coming from behind me._

_It’s a blinding flash again, however, this time there’s something wrong – it doesn’t go away anymore. The confusion in my mind lingers due to the suffocating static. Whispers and voices zoom past me, stinging me whenever I try to decipher their meaning. For this exact reason I can’t seem to wrap my head around what I’m facing. And just when peak confusion has achieved, the storm begins._

_A hit in the stomach and I roll further towards the main exit. Stars burst from my eyes and I feel my insides churn. Pain brings my focus back, but it’s too little far too late. The next kick hits me right in the head._

_It takes me a while to understand where I am. As soon as my mind clears, I find myself trapped under the person. The air thunders around the house, and it seems like my best ally does me another gracious favor. Lightning illuminates the room._

_Her body is still wrapped in these god-awful overalls that smell like blood, gore, and rot. Her arms stretch upwards, hands together as if pleading to a heavenly entity, or perhaps a monster from the depths, and it’s darn obvious that she holds something in her hands. However, what takes my attention from the imminent danger is her face._

_Her scars shine in the flash of light and there is only one emotion written between those marks of violence: a determined hate, and one so sincere that it fills me with urgency. Because if she is so adamant to rip me apart with the knife she’s holding, if she’s so ready to avenge her companion, who I clobbered to death right before her, then it’s obvious that there’s no negotiation possible and no mercy to be given. It’s going to be a fight to death, I realize in the heat of the moment. It takes only a split second to come to this conclusion, and it’s barely enough, for she thrusts her knife downwards._

_I manage to block her attack. It was wide and slow – I guess she thought that I was going to be dazed longer – and that saves me from certain doom. My mind clear and my body mostly functional, I whack the knife from her hands and push her off me. Her fury doesn’t compensate for her fragile body build, which is why she falls quite a bit away towards the stairs, her headlamp coming loose due to the sickening blow._

_I have the upper hand now, I acknowledge to myself, even though every fiber of my being aches. There’s no need to hurry anymore, because she is already on the retreat – whimpering and gurgling, for the fall against the steps surely knocked the crap out of her. She’s holding on, I notice, while moving steadily towards her. She’s fighting against unconsciousness very bravely, but the stars have aligned poorly for her tonight._

_I could very well walk away, but there’s no chance she wouldn’t pursue me. Perhaps if her dominant half was still alive, there would be a chance for a peaceful resolution, but even then their hunger could’ve been enough to drive them to follow me. That’s the thing with cannibals. They kill for a primal need; something that drives each and every one of us. Thinking about it a bit more freely, there’s no way to blame these people. Who am I to say who deserves to live and who deserves to die? The lines of morality have been blurred in this brave new world._

_It doesn’t matter anymore anyhow. By taking her lover’s life I already sealed their fate, but also mine. Maybe I should think of her as another infected I’m neutralizing, as their hunger is identical in nature. Perhaps this would make it easier, and my soul wouldn’t be tainted by another kill._

_She coughs and mumbles a few words. I barely make anything out, and, if I’m truly honest, I don’t care what she has to say. She has made her decision and I’ve made mine. The whispers force me to drop my search for the tire iron, and, I think solemnly, it’s for the best. A knife is more humane way to introduce oblivion._

_I remember my father talking about his childhood. He rarely told such stories for fun, but that time he was in a certain mood. Once on a trip to his grandparents’ farm, he was commanded to cut a cow to kill it, for his family needed food on the table, and his father thought it would be a fitting challenge for a 7-year-old boy. The experience left him mortified. Although he never admitted it, his face turned ghastly pale when telling the story._

_It’s humane for sure, and I believe my father’s words wholeheartedly. Running out of blood feels exactly like falling asleep, but the catch is that I can’t stop at only one cut. Putting her down would take more. And she is no drugged up farm animal, but a fierce beast motivated by hatred and a desperate need for revenge._

_My mass looms over her. I raise my arm, which, in a twist of irony, holds her own weapon. She raises her arms to block the attack, but she’s far too weak to resist._

_It ends sooner than I thought. Even though a good part of me hoped it was going to be quick and painless, the voices sigh in disappointment, for they hoped it would last much longer. And, of course, that means I wished it as well. I become disturbed by such barbaric thoughts, but it’s only the beginning. Suddenly, without any explanation, the world stands still._

_The scene is perfectly frozen, almost as if someone took a screen capture of a rather horrific movie. Everything is illuminated so perfectly, that for the first time during this evening I can clearly spot the details of the girl lying there, limp on the steps._

_In the heavenly white glow surrounding us, she doesn’t look so dangerous anymore. If not for the cherry-red stains on her torso and neck, it would seem like she’s sleeping._

_I take another look at her face. This time it’s not the emotion nor the scars that startle me, because there are no scars at all, but the green shine in her eyes. A green shine that I find very familiar._

_And suddenly I know. Suddenly, I realize, with increasing panic, that whatever I see right now could not be, because I’ve never come that far. Because whatever happened here, truly did happen, but not to the girl I see before me. Somehow, I know it’s false, and the chuckling in my head, resembling the sound of a dying fire, confirms my suspicion._

_“Cool trick, isn’t it, Mikey?” the voice echoes. I turn around in the foggy glow, but can’t see a thing. “It’s quite extraordinary what I can accomplish here!”_

_“Donovan? What is this? What’s going on?”_

_“I think it’s pretty obvious.”_

_“B-But she isn’t-…”_

_“She is whatever you see her as. Right now it seems like she’s your sworn enemy.”_

_“No!” I yell into the void. “I didn’t mean to, god damn it! It was just a-…”_

_“Stupid fight? A teensy-weensy little argument? My my, it doesn’t look like it!”_

_I look at the body with disgust. Cherry-red stains have transformed into maggot-ridden gashes, so deep and rotten that one could stick a fist inside and tear them apart._

_“You want to know what it looks like to me? It seems like you hate her guts so bad that you’re willing to do whatever to shut her up.”_

_“It’s not like that at all!” I yell at the void again, sobs tearing apart the quiet scene surrounding me. “I didn’t mean to!”_

_“That makes it worse, doesn’t it, Mikey?”_

_I stare at the ceiling, perhaps thinking that’s the place my other half hides in._

_“If you really didn’t mean it,” the voice drags on, mockingly, “then there is something much more terrifying going on with you.”_

_And he is correct. I offered myself the chance to leave her be, yet decided against it. One part of it was rational, but the other was purely a need. I wanted to tear her apart. I wanted to see life slowly escape from her eyes. And I couldn’t stop myself when the opportunity rose._

_But that couldn’t be! Because it wasn’t me who made the decision. It was the static, the whispers, and the voices that urged me to complete the act of cruelty I’m blaming myself for. Time and time again it has been them – him, who has turned me into a despicable man, unable to contain his mind. Yet this doesn’t change anything, I think solemnly, accepting the truth. Even if I don’t want to commit such acts, I’m forced to. I can’t stop his influence._

_“You see it now.”_

_“I do.”_

_“We have become inseparable. My needs are your needs, my wishes are yours.”_

_I nod._

_“And whatever I do, you do as well.”_

_“I don’t want to.”_

_Laughter fills the white fog. It whistles like a gust of wind blowing through an abandoned barn._

_“Unfortunately, Mikey, you don’t have a say in anything anymore.”_

_“I will fight you!”_

_In a childish show of determination I tighten my fists._

_“You won’t get past anymore. I will stop you!”_

_“Sure, you can try. But are you willing to take that chance?”_

_I stand in the white fog, gears in my head grinding to a slow and painful halt while I try to understand the gravity of this question._

_“Should you become disloyal, what’s to stop me from choosing a different target? Perhaps the other one who knows about me. The one who knows how to keep me at bay?”_

_The image changes, and I let out a pleading scream. Monika’s body morphs into Yuri’s._

_Purple in her hair is barely noticeable, because most of it is soaked with dried blood. Deep wounds found everywhere on her body make it seem like a rabid wolf had tried its claws on her._

_“No…”_

_“Perhaps your previous crush who is still, despite her rejection and irritating nature, so dear to you?”_

_Yuri’s body turns into Natsuki’s. She is barely recognizable: her face is violently beaten in and her torso is a mush of meat, guts, and broken ribs sticking out from every direction. What had been legs are now only charred stumps._

_I plead Donovan again, but he continues mercilessly. I try to close my eyes, because the upcoming sight will be too revolting, but nothing changes. I still stare at the body. Even turning my head doesn’t work._

_“Look at her!” the voice echoes against my eardrums, as if wanting to escape the confinement that is my very brain._

_It’s Sayori. Of course it’s her. To my surprise there is nothing wrong with her. Or rather, I can’t say there’s anything wrong just by looking at her, and it offers momentary relief. But deep down I know that the girl, lying in the misty glow, holding a bright red rose, is already gone and is never coming back._

_“How many times you need to see it before you realize?”_

_“I won’t… I will never hurt them…”_

_“Oh, Mikey,” Donovan says softly, as if patting me on my shoulder. “You don’t know. You can’t possibly know.”_

_And I can’t know. I can’t be sure that I’m able to contain his wrath. Which is why there is only one step I can take. One drastic way I can undo all of this. However, this demands willpower I’ve never had to amass. I try to find a better chance, a way that I can still stay with all of them, but all roads lead to this. The final solution._

_I twist my body, which, in a magnificent turn of events, finally answers to my commands. I take one look at the knife in my hand, and thrust it in my stomach._

* * *

At last, I’m awake.

The office feels unsafe and cold. So cold, in fact, that my breath is visible in the evening sunlight. Despite this, my body feels like a furnace. This makes it a bit easier to get dressed and pack up my sleeping bag. It takes me awhile: crunching it together so that it takes minimal space is tricky, especially when trying to be as quiet as possible, but it makes no difference, I soon discover. Sayori has already left the room.

Having packed up all of my stuff, I leave the office, determined to start being productive at once. I find most of the club members already awake in the leisure room. Yuri sits on a windowsill and reads a book, her mouth barely open in an o-shape as is her custom when experiencing a rather gripping volume. Natsuki lays on a bean-bag chair and quickly skims over the many pages of her favorite manga. Monika sits in the teacher’s desk, one leg over the other, and, in-between sipping coffee, examines what I presume are the plans we produced yesterday.

For a split second I find myself petrified. It’s not in any way logical, because I’m back where I should be, safe and sound, but a moment arises when I doubt whether the things I experienced were only in my head. And it’s preposterous – there’s no way they could get inside my head and see what I saw. Something like this just isn’t possible. And yet, I see them staring at me, so intensely that I question if they saw their fate.

Luckily, it indeed is my imagination, just an echo of my dream. Everyone, except for Monika, acknowledge my presence nonchalantly, showering me with greetings of various enthusiasm. I don’t stay for long, out of fear that my horrified expression betrayed something. And they seem to be engulfed in their own worlds anyway.

After finishing Natsuki’s leftover sardines that she so graciously offered me, I head over to the basement level. I drag the bikes on the first floor, check them, and pack the pouches full of different provisions that we have. I try my best to be as thorough as possible and spend as much time near the bikes as I possibly can, but it’s quite clear that there is nothing worthwhile to be done. This means that by the time I’ve finished dealing with our transportation, there’s still about six hours left until departure. Six hours to spend, wondering whether things will go as planned is as frightening of a thought as stepping into the hospital to brave the unknown, which is why I sneak back on the third floor office to get some sleep.

I spend about half an hour on the couch, thoughts blazing through my head, and it’s painfully apparent that my plan to get some shut-eye fails miserably. Having accepted that, I push myself up and stagger towards the desk.

In all my time in this little room I’ve never even thought about checking the drawers. I grin at the thought of this being a dream of every single mischievous student, because, let’s be real: who hasn’t thought about rummaging through their principal’s belongings?

The drawers are heavy and filled with all sorts of documents. I find nothing exciting at first. Reports on different teachers, unsent memos regarding rule changes, cafeteria bills, and all other administrative papers lazily plop on the desk while I make room to gouge out other stuff. McHowall even had a dedicated drawer for snacks, but as I expected, it now contains only crunched up wrappers. I pocket some pens that are lying around and even manage to find some duct tape. In a momentary evaluation of how silly this is – I don’t even know what I’m looking for – I consider returning to the couch again, but then stumble upon a drawer that just doesn’t budge.

Now that things have gotten a little bit challenging, I’m determined to open this one. I mentally apologize to McHowall for invading his privacy and spend some time prying the thing open.

I make room on the desk and lift a folder out. It’s tied shut by a thin rope, which is already a sign that whatever I’ll find is of importance. My mom ties her business documents like this and she never jokes around with that stuff.

Before diving into the papers, I notice a picture of McHowall and his family. They seem really happy to be in the frame. Even their Labrador is smiling at the camera. The picture is quite old and grainy, probably done in the 90s. The protagonist seems younger, sporting a magnificent moustache that I’ve always been jealous of.

When I finally get to opening the rope and lifting out some of the documents, my sight immediately wanders on the first sheet. All the information on it very clearly states that McHowall was well aware of the masked men’s arrival at least a few days before the exam day. I snicker at the subsequent protests of our principal, who was really adamant on not letting anything stop his students having a stress free exam experience. I would argue that there is nothing stress free about that, but I admire McHowall’s persistence on protecting his students. The other sheets display an e-mail conversation between him and one named MacKenzie Blaze, who seems to be a figurehead of an institution of some sort. Unfortunately, McHowall has done a bang-up job of covering his and their tracks.

The conversation doesn’t explain anything, and even the connection of the masked men to this figurehead and her company isn’t clear, but the dates match too well for it to be a coincidence. I try to find a clue about the company’s name, but these documents don’t betray anything. There seems to be nothing else in this drawer, so I stick my hand inside and just shuffle around. Lo and behold, my fingertips scratch a sticky note deep inside.

I lift it in the sunlight.

“Bingo!”

McHowall may have redacted all the documents in the map, but the man’s mind was too cluttered to remember the institution’s name, so he had to write it down for further research. I’m not sure if he found anything at all. “ResinCorp International” doesn’t seem to betray much. If I had a computer and access to the internet, I would be able to check its purpose and origins, but the sweet hub of all sin is gone with all other important parts of our civilization.

Even though I didn’t find anything particularly useful, I still feel a sense of fulfillment, knowing that at least I have the name of the alleged private company that dabbles in murdering innocent students. I pocket the sticky note and stand up to do some stretches and figure out what to do next. Unsurprisingly, I can’t come up with anything.

The inaction gnaws at me. When I finally hear the girls scatter about in the halls, I realize that I’ve been standing near the office window for hours. In the meantime, sky has turned from clear blue to a combination of dark blue and muddy brown, the latter bringing along cutting winds that bend even the strongest of trees.

My focus shifts to the abandoned townscape. The few high buildings this town has serve as nothing but a distraction from our real destination. A wider street winding between the towers leads to a faraway slope on which I can spot the little mass of concrete that is Blueberry County Medical Clinic. The building, its windows glooming ever so slightly, is stuck between two small patches of birch trees, their silhouettes barely distinguishable in the darkness. The same goes for the lone infected roaming the streets. The lack of any moonlight makes it seem that much ominous.

I gather my things and leave the office; if everything goes well then for good this time. As soon as I step out, I hear familiar bickering coming from the leisure room. It makes me smile. Not because I enjoy solving another falling-out, but because it instills some fortitude that even when our world has fallen apart, there are still normal and perhaps trivial things that bother us.

The closer I get, the clearer I hear the argument. And the more I hear it, the more my smile widens.

“Stop pulling that one! I told you!”

“You said the left one…”

“Yeah! And you’re pulling the right one!”

“My left or your left?”

“Gah, Yuri, how can you be so dumb all of a sudden?!”

“That’s incredibly rude of you! How am I supposed to know when you’re spinning around?”

I peek inside the room lit only by their old gas lamp. Yuri and Natsuki mess around with their backpacks, trying to fit them on as comfortably as possible. Monika kneels next to Sayori and seems to lay out instructions to her, but judging by the heap of stuff all around them, their collective effort at packing doesn’t go so well. I don’t really understand why they’re packing now. I can clearly recall Sayori telling me that her bags were packed…

Taking in the moderate chaos in the room, I come to a conclusion that I expected them to be a little bit more experienced and, dare I say, professional, but the club doesn’t seem to be ready to go on an adventure of their lives.

Yuri’s battle-attire is pretty impressive though. She already has her crimson-striped sports bag on that barely reaches her hair. The latter is tied into a tight bun; considering her hair length, it’s a good idea. She wears regular greenish-brown cargo pants and the same gray high-collared sweater I saw her in once or twice when meeting up for festival preparations. Her belt is fancier than the others’, fitted with no less than three knives, all safely tucked in their holsters.

Natsuki’s khaki rucksack seems to be quite a lot bigger than the girl herself, but, despite the seemingly huge mass she wears on her shoulders, she doesn’t seem to buckle under the weight of it all. She wears a black hoodie with black leggings. That and her vest and belt, both with its many pouches and pockets, still makes her look very tactical. The only thing that I fail to agree with is her pink skirt, but one could argue that the color of it is so worn that it won’t stick out.

Sayori’s clothes are surprisingly decent for survival, and I have a suspicion that much like with packing, she has gotten help with choosing the best options. She wears well-fitting cargo pants and a hooded raincoat, both with a woodland camo pattern. Her boots seem strong enough as well, even supporting her ankles. The only thing that worries me is her totally oblivious face as she tries to listen to Monika’s advice.

Monika’s patched up clothes leave an impression of a hardened explorer. Her leather jacket isn’t that torn up, but the jeans she’s wearing make it seem like she’s been through many fights where the odds haven’t initially been in her favor. She’s also the only one that has reinforced her jeans with knee-guards and her jacket with elbow-guards, much like I have done. Her hiking backpack is bigger than the other girls’ bags.

They haven’t yet noticed me, which is why I loudly knock on the door and utter something pathetically cliché to get them moving. Judging by their confused stares, it turns out that “Ready to rock” didn’t land as well as I hoped. Oh well, I sigh to myself, I’ve never been good at being cool anyway, but I pride myself with the fact that at least I made one of them giggle.

We arrive at the main exit just as it starts to rain – the pitter-patter of small raindrops bouncing against the doors being enough proof of that – so Monika tells everyone to put their coats on. Yuri and Natsuki kneel down next to their bikes and start searching for them, but Sayori, already proudly wearing hers, instead walks up to me and asks if I can help her. The problem seems to be with her bike seat.

It was easy to offer my assistance early in the morning, but had I known that it was going to be such a pain in the ass, I wouldn’t have said anything. The seat fails to budge because it’s hopelessly rusted against the frame, so I decide to knock it loose with my fire axe. It’s successful in the sense that I get the damn thing moving, but tinkering with it until I get it into the correct position is tricky. Also, the fact that my hair is constantly blocking my vision makes it a very nerve-wrecking task.

“This seems to be more difficult than I thought,” I quietly snarl.

“It’s pretty good! Don’t worry!”

“Really?”

Sayori nods and peeks at the seat, which is obviously too high.

“If you say so!”

I step away from the bike and wait for her to try it. I guess she didn’t think I’d call her bluff, because she takes her sweet time to climb on the bike. My annoyance at the bike still burning inside me, I decide to be as stubborn as she is and ignore her quiet assurances that everything is fine. A few moments later she finally gives in.

“Okay, it doesn’t work at all…”

“I told you… I’ll try it one more time!” I say and wave towards her with my axe. She jumps out of the way. “Timber!”

The blunt side of the axe collides with the seat and a loud whine emits from the bike as the seat falls down a few inches. I cringe from the sound, but still smile as the seat seems to be in perfect position. Sayori agrees with me.

All this commotion has alerted the others. Natsuki thunders at us to keep it down and urges us to finally get moving. Surprisingly, they have already undone the barricades near the main exit, and this means that our fooling around is the only thing stopping us from leaving. Sayori giggles apologetically and grabs her bike, trotting over towards Monika, who smiles sweetly at the girl. However, as soon as Sayori exits the building, I notice Monika’s demeanor change. Her flat stare makes it clear that I should heed by my words and take this more seriously. As much as I’d like to get into a lengthy argument with her, I must admit that she is totally right. This is not the time for such childishness.

I flick my head towards the exit, and she walks out without saying a word. Ashamed, I run my hand through my hair and put my beanie on.

The weather is extremely cold and the blowing wind makes it even colder. The contrast between sunshine before and all the crap raining down now is painfully noticeable.

Despite leaving the school hurriedly, Sayori has yet to catch up with Yuri and Natsuki, who are already on their bikes ready to go. I close the door behind me – not that it matters much – and walk down the steps where Monika and Sayori are.

“Are you okay?” Monika asks Sayori, who seems to be lost in her thoughts. She purses her lips and jerks gently, turning her attention to Monika.

“Yes! I was just looking at the school one last time.”

“What’s up?” I ask, but my question falls on deaf ears.

“I don’t understand how you’re all so ready to leave it behind,” Sayori says.

Monika and I exchange looks. I know exactly what Sayori is feeling, but decide to let Monika handle it, for I’m not in the mood to being told off again.

“It’s because we all know we’re going to miss this place.”

There’s a glint of understanding in Sayori’s eyes and a bit of sadness in Monika’s. I don’t want to ruin the moment and usher them to come along, so I just quietly straddle my bike and roll away. They spend a bit talking quietly and I try to suppress a need to hop off and go comfort her. Instead, I wait until we’re all on our bikes.

We start pedaling through the dark streets with Monika as the leader of our little convoy and me biking behind everyone else. She masterfully steers clear of the main streets, which are littered with many obstacles, such as broken down or crashed cars, fallen light poles, and a few crumbled buildings here and there. The warm town I used to know has turned cold and strange on me, and I bet I’m not the only one noticing this, although the girls’ attention mostly seems to be focused on the few infected we meet during our trip. We speed past them before they manage to fully notice our presence. Everyone succeeds at keeping their pedals moving so as to not produce the idle “ticking” sound, which means that either Monika has prepared them well or they’re cleverer than I give them credit for.

We make a sharp turn off the tarmac before the hospital right towards the little forested area pretty close to where I left my backpack. We leave our bikes, drop our backpacks next to them, and gather near the edge of the tree line. Monika, being the first one to arrive, is already investigating the hospital.

“Okay, everyone!” Monika whispers, turning towards the group. “We’re finally here. Now, before we do this…”

They all listen to Monika as she offers final tasks, warnings, and encouragements. There’s no word that’s misplaced, not a single thing referring to anything but a cold hard determination to get this done, and I can’t help but feel a certain type of envy.

“So remember: if anything goes wrong – anything at all – you must not panic. If it so happens that we get split up, our rendezvous point is at Mike’s house. It’s only five blocks away from here. I’m pretty sure you all know where it is.”

The girls nod.

“That’s our safehouse for 24 hours. If some of us don’t make it there…”

Sayori gulps.

“…The survivors will cut their losses and move on.”

Monika sends a stern look at each and every one of us. Sayori looks around, trying to find courage to protest, but seeing no-one else react to it, she lowers her head and sighs.

“But let’s hope for the best!” Monika finishes with her sweetest smile. “Go get your pouches and let’s meet here. Michael?”

The girls sneak off towards their bikes while I walk next to her.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m good. I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

“You weren’t so sure yesterday.”

“Forget about yesterday,” she utters, barely letting me finish my sentence. “It’s all you now.”

I’m baffled by her change of mind, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it, but my thought process gets interrupted.

“By the way, I found this.”

She sticks a plastic device in my hands. It has a cylindrical shape and I can spot a button on the side of it.

“It’s a laser pointer. I found it at Mrs. Cresswell’s office. I bet she confiscated it from a student, because she would’ve never known how to use this.”

“I remember she used to get bullied pretty hard for her ineptitude with technology.”

Monika chuckles, and I can feel her hands tighten around my fist holding the device.

“Use this to signal us if it’s safe.”

“Smart. Good looking out, Monika.”

“We’re going to be fine, right?”

I almost open my mouth to ask her if that was a question or a statement, but with a gentle tap she lets go of my hand and turns towards Yuri, who is the first to arrive with her shoulder bag. She crouches a few feet away from Monika and raises her hand.

“M-Monika? Have you decided on our point of entry yet?”

Monika flicks her head at me and I clear my throat.

“The best approach is to circle the building and enter from the back. There is a door that should lead us straight to the basement level. This would give us a way out as well as take us right where we should be.”

“Mike is our scouting party, so he’s the first one to enter,” Monika explains.

“I’m sorry, but are you sure that’s a good idea? We shouldn’t immediately split off like this.”

“It’s the best way to ensure that our path is safe,” I answer.

Thankfully, Yuri is unable to question our plans any further as Sayori and Natsuki arrive with their equipment.

“Sorry! Sorry! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Monika!” Sayori whispers, frantically trying to release herself from the bounds of her shoulder bag. “I don’t know how I managed to get stuck like this…”

Natsuki cups her face and starts helping Sayori out.

“How did you even-…?”

“I don’t know! _I don’t know!_ I’m such a mess…”

It takes them a good few minutes to finally get ready, after which Sayori giggles and drops more apologies our way.

“It’s fine, Sayori,” Monika says. “Is everyone ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Natsuki says and picks up her fire axe. “We’ve been sitting around long enough.”

“Right,” I whisper. “Keep a distance of about 20 feet and follow me.”

This is it, I think to myself. This is what we’ve been preparing for. This is what I’ve thought about ever since we reunited. This is the first stage of our quest for answers. A chill creeps up my spine that has nothing to do with the blowing wind. The quiet before an attack feels like it’s hollering at me, but the moment I kick my feet into motion and start sneaking by the tree line, the club members in tow, my fear gets slowly replaced by an intoxicating feeling of duty, pride, and purpose.

The tree line ends about 50 yards away from the entrance, so I use this cover to make a final address to the group. I wave them over and point towards Monika.

“I’m mainly communicating with you, so let’s clarify some signals.”

“Of course.”

“If I flick the laser twice, the path is safe and you can follow. If I flick the laser four times, the path is not clear and you should stand by. If I add two, this means that I’m requesting help.”

I breathe in and push the sudden fear back. I don’t even want to say this one out loud, but they have to be ready for it.

“If you see the light flicker indefinitely, you run. No matter what the situation is, you run and you don’t come back.”

“Mike, don’t sa-…!”

“Stop it, Sayori!” I almost plead her. “Remember what Monika said, alright?”

The group stares at me, but one by one they all nod. Monika chuckles.

“Don’t worry, guys! When dawn breaks, we’ll already be safe!”

“Exactly! Now come on!”

I close my eyes, breathe in, and grip my fire axe tightly.

“It’s time to earn our stories.”

Just like a week ago, I bolt towards the hospital, making sure to keep myself as low as possible.

After arriving to the door, I find that it’s locked, just like I expected it to be. I have no other choice but to swing at it with all my might, shattering glass all around me. Immediately, I recover my axe and peek inside the stairwell, ready for any kind of an attack. For a moment I feel relieved that perhaps this forced entry didn’t alert anyone, but seconds later I hear a familiar growling noise coming from underground. I slowly back away, unfazed by the sounds, for I’m at a considerable advantage. The only thing I have to do is wait for the roamers to climb up the stairs.

It’s a piece of cake smashing their heads in as they run out in a single file, yet I can already feel my shoulder ache from all the swings at them. Luckily, there seems to be only 5 roamers that were alerted.

I carefully step over their bodies and descend into the basement, trying not to trip on the blood-coated stairs. I’m surprised that the backup electrical system covers this area, seeing as the little light bulbs on the wall seem to be older than television. Despite this, I can clearly see around the dull gray hallway.

If my memory is correct, I should turn right and keep going until I arrive at the end of the hallway. I hesitate to move, electing to stay still for a couple of seconds and listen to any footsteps or growls that may betray danger, but the surrounding areas truly seem to be void of those. I decide to hug the wall on my right, keeping a hunched over posture. It doesn’t do me any good hiding wise, but I still feel the compulsion to keep myself as tiny as possible.

The hallway breaks into two. One of them leads upstairs towards the first floor; judging by the persisting color scheme, I assume it leads to a section not meant for patients. The other hallway turns left, and, if the signs don’t lie, this one should take me to the pharmacy department.

As the surrounding areas seem to be secure, I turn back to the stairwell and climb outside to finally signal Monika that they can follow. I flick my laser two times, and after a couple of seconds I see four silhouettes emerge from the tree line. Having ensured that they got my signal, I return to the basement and sneak towards the intersection again. The collective noise of their footsteps is pretty loud, but I admit that it would be impossible to stay completely silent.

Before letting the group follow, I clear a few other hallways lined with multiple doors. Most of the latter are either locked or lead into several maintenance rooms that don’t contain anything useful. This little touch of wariness costs us a lot of time and chips away at our nerves, but in my mind it’s better to be safe than sorry.

After arriving to the now open reinforced doors, my instincts go into overdrive right away. I’ve sneaked my way through many different environments, and I know damn well when something is out of the ordinary. The most important clue is the horrific smell that emits from the bright colored vestibule. Such a putrid odor can only come from the roamers or their victims, which means that despite our relatively safe passage here, there is a possibility of a swarm of them hiding somewhere. Or, if the infected are already dealt with, there may be survivors. Neither one of these scenarios is good, which is why I signal the girls to stay behind, just in case anything goes badly.

The vestibule is just like I remember it to be from my high school days. The place is colored white with a hint of beige in some areas, expressing the professionalism and cleanliness that comes with hospitals. In the back of the vestibule is a counter, where every department could pick up their order of drugs and medical supplies. On opposite sides of the room are couches and chairs, mostly meant for doctors or patients to relax on, in order to make their wait more comfortable.

I pass the counter with the idea of reaching the back rooms where most of the laboratories, warehouse entrances, and offices are. And the moment I reach yet another set of double doors, I realize that my deductions were right.

The main corridor presents a terrible sight. It doesn’t matter if I look left or straight, the hallway wrapping around the section is filled with human remains. And the reason I say remains is because some of the corpses are so mutilated that they resemble a gory mess rather than a whole cadaver. The ones that are more “complete” are leaning against the walls, hunched over in piles, or scattered around the floor. I make a mental note of the fact that the dried blood and yellow gore plastered all over the white surroundings look rather fresh.

I must have spaced out examining the sight, because I don’t even hear Monika come up from behind me. Her quiet inquiry about the situation startles me, but I recover shortly, explaining that these infected were recently disposed of.

“Someone’s probably been here. Your eyes didn’t deceive you.”

“Do you think they’re still here?”

“Unlikely. We would have met them by now. But I can’t rule out the possibility of them being on upper floors.”

“What’s your plan?”

I rub my forehead and glance back at the vestibule. The remaining girls occasionally look at our direction, but immediately return their attention to their posts.

“Let someone guard the vestibule while we start clearing the rooms. After we’re done with that, we’ll break into the warehouse and quickly get what we need. Then we slip out the back again. Hopefully we’ll be able to leave before we’re noticed.”

“Can’t we just head for the warehouse right away? I understand your desire to be careful, but the longer we stay here, the more of a chance we’ll alert anyone else in this hospital.”

“I’ve done this a few times. Trust me, you want to check every nook and cranny.”

Monika doesn’t seem convinced, but I can’t care less. Right now it’s my call to make.

“Alright… Then what about these peop-… I mean, what about these bodies? Maybe we should check them as well.”

“Hardly worth it. They’re regular employees, doctors, patients. I doubt they have anything useful.”

Me outright dismissing her idea has the opposite effect that I hoped. She walks further into the hallway, and with her head turning around every which way, looking at every single body or chunk of meat, it’s telling that she’s adamant to find something useful just to spite me. I contemplate on sending her back to the vestibule, but I decide to inform the rest of the club of our next actions myself. As I’m about to walk away, Monika hisses and motions me near a door that leads to the offices.

“What?!”

She answers my question with more persistent body language. Despite getting quite irritated, I remind myself that we are in a pretty dangerous situation, and starting another fight with her wouldn’t accomplish anything. Instead, I step over a few corpses and stop next to her.

“Did you find some-…? Oh!”

“Yeah. We totally missed that.”

Ignoring her blatant mocking, I crouch down.

“He really got more than he bargained for, didn't he?”

“You got that right,” I answer.

This corpse looks nothing like the rest, and the contrast seems stupidly obvious on a closer look. Still, in my defense, it is as bloody and eaten as the other ones.

It’s the remains of a highly equipped survivor. He wears a black jacket and trousers, quite possibly law enforcement grade, along with a slightly worn helmet that barely covers his hair. Now this is telling enough, but what piques our interest the most is his stab vest, which not only looks more salvageable than the other stuff, but has been modified with a couple of pouches, some of which hold a few magazines. Upon seeing this, Monika immediately reaches below the fallen survivor’s waist, trying to locate a holster, but finds it empty. She begins to look around for the missing pistol while I place my axe on the ground and remove the survivor’s vest and utility belt.

“Figures! I can’t find it. Maybe it slid further away.”

“Shit, watch out!”

I drop my newly acquired stuff and violently pull at her raincoat to get her as far away from the survivor as possible. As we plop into a mess of guts and meat, I focus my attention on the survivor’s corpse.

“Michael, what on earth is wrong with you?!”

My heart slows down, although my hands still tremble. The perceived threat is gone. The corpse just lays there.

“I felt him move.”

“No. You felt _me_ move. I bumped into you while I was moving a body.”

“Oh…”

I feel quite ashamed as Monika stands up and grabs the coat of an elderly doctor we just fell on top of to wipe most of the gore off her jeans.

“Still,” I say, picking the belt and vest off the floor, “we should tell the others to be careful around them.”

Monika groans at her disgustingly dirty jeans and sighs.

“I’ll tell Sayori to guard the vestibule and get Yuri and Natsuki to help us.”

“Alright,” I say, while putting on the vest.

“You, on the other hand, look around for that P250. It should be around here somewhere.”

“P250?” I look at her, perplexed, while snapping the belt over my waist. “How do you-…?”

“I know my guns,” she says with a smile. “I’ve been at the range many times.”

As much as I haven’t enjoyed her conduct these past few days, I’m utterly intrigued by her knowledge in firearms. And by intrigued, I mean that suddenly I find her at least ten times hotter. Of course, the moment I catch myself on that thought, I feel my face heat up, because I’m quite sure that the smile was in reaction to my dazzled expression.

Seeing as we are still, in fact, in a dangerous situation, I shoo away these thoughts and crouch over the survivor to get his helmet off, keeping a close attention on his eyes so that he doesn’t surprise me when he decides to come back to life again. When I manage to do so, and right after I put the bucket on and get my fire axe, I see Monika, Natsuki, and Yuri arrive in the corridor. Natsuki’s and Yuri's faces crunch up to the ugly sight, and the former’s reaction is so severe that Monika has to shush her.

Yuri passes me and waves while timidly looking around the hallway, her hand hovering over her knife holster. Monika and Natsuki decide to team up and start searching a room close to where I was standing before. Unfortunately for all of us, my search for the missing pistol proves fruitless, and Yuri seems to be struggling as well. We both move onwards until the corridor turns left. The situation on the other side of the complex isn’t that messy, which is why we don’t spend much time there.

“There can’t just be one of them here,” Yuri whispers. “It’s unfathomable that he managed to dispose of all these infected by his lonesome.”

“I agree. We haven’t checked all the rooms though. There may be some of them…-“

But I’m cut off by some arguing coming from the previous hallway. It’s loud. Much louder than it should be. So loud that if there is someone else here, there’s a huge chance that our location has been compromised. And this makes me very, very angry.

I bump into Yuri while trying to make my way past the corner. I’m already thinking about the various insults that I wish to unleash on them, but my anger is mostly swept away by the absurdity that I witness.

I’m not exactly sure who found the pistol, and it’s pretty hard to tell, because Monika and Natsuki are both holding on to it, but it’s clear as day that they both feel entitled to carry it. Now, I’m not an expert on gun safety, but even I know that waving the barrel around like that is wildly inappropriate.

“Give it to me, Monika!”

“You hardly know what you’re doing! Stop pointing it everywhere!”

“I can’t when you’re holding on to it!”

“God, you're such a brat!”

I desperately try to get their attention without screaming, but to no avail, which is why I start walking towards them, flailing around with my arms.

“What did you say?!”

“Okay, take it then! But don't touch the trigg-…”

And then, it happens. The inevitable.

A sound comes and rips the air apart, but goes away as if it has never existed. In all this magnificent chaos I suddenly feel very cold, because the moment everything froze was the moment the barrel was pointed in my direction.

Monika’s and Natsuki’s eyes are so comically wide and their mouths seem like they need to be scraped from the floor. I bet my expression isn’t that much different, but I can hardly focus on that. Instead, I feel terribly lightheaded as hundreds or even thousands of memories and snippets of experiences, visual or auditory, smash through my head and leave me stunned.

But it dawns on me, having stood in place for what seems to be an eternity, that I’m far from dead. And when I finally manage to move my arms and touch every important inch of my body, I realize that the bullet didn’t even hit me. Both girls are still far too shell-shocked to say anything, but as I begin to recover from the emotional clusterfuck I just experienced, I’m suddenly taken over by fear and fear alone.

If one thinks that arguing loudly about some petty bullshit was dangerous, what about a gunshot going off in the middle of a potential hotzone?

It’s suddenly so very quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Every second that ticks into the future elongates the persistence of a vacuum that was created. And, of course, such empty space is bound to be filled with an appropriate force. I catch myself pleading to anyone up there to let this one mistake be forgotten, to let us stay unnoticed for just a couple of minutes more, but alas, some things just can’t be.

A scream is heard. It gradually becomes louder and multiplies. Not only is it heard from the upper floors, but from the rooms around us. By the club’s reaction I can safely deduce that everyone knows what’s about to happen. Sayori leans on the doorway and retches. Natsuki lets go of the gun and dry-heaves, and Monika, victorious in the sense that she holds the pistol, grabs her stomach and forces her mouth shut. I catch my breath and listen to the hundreds of groans and footsteps above and around us. Even though the hospital has become alive, none of the girls seem to know what to do.

I guess someone has to remind them.

“RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIVES!”

And just like that, all hell breaks loose. A few doors next to me burst open and I swing my axe just in time to bash the first infected in the skull. As the demonic howling and growling becomes louder, I begin to lose control over my senses. Whispering and voices take an increasing presence in my mind as I swing wildly at the yellow-eyed freaks around me. From the corner of my eye I see Monika desperately shooting at whatever infected she sees, but soon even the gunshots become entangled in a static.

* * *

_You fucked up once again._

“Michael! Get this one!”

_Can’t you see that this plan was doomed all along?_

“We need to get out of here!”

_Why would you ever risk it all for something so foolish as this?_

“Hit him! HIT HIM!”

_Could it be your desperate will to finally be a hero?_

“This one is locked! Quick, get to-…!”

_To finally matter?_

“It got me!”

_You let down your parents…_

“No! I can’t-…! NO, MICHAEL! HELP!”

_…your sister…_

“PLEASE, NO! DON’T!”

… _not to mention your friends._

“Oh my god! He almost bit me!”

_What more can you do to ruin everything, Mikey?_

“Get inside! Hurry! COME ON!”

_I’m not letting anyone down!_

“Michael, the door…”

_Not anymore._

“I can’t hold them back much longer!”

_Really?_

“Michael, you need to help me!”

_Really. I’ll prove it!_

“Snap out of it!”

_Well, I suggest you do it quick._

“You must fight it!”

_Otherwise this bitch is going to blow a fuse._

“MICHAEL!”

I jerk awake and look around. Yuri is desperately pushing back at the horde of infected trying to breach the door. I grab my axe and push myself up from the floor, in order to swing at multiple arms sticking out between the door and the frame. I manage to cut off some and sever the others, and with my help we finally shut it.

Seeing Yuri’s exhausted face, I motion her to step aside and let me take over. While she scrambles to find a suitable item to block the door with, I place my back firmly against it. After an excruciating minute of me battling the forces in the hallway, she starts to bring some stuff. It’s mostly regular cardboard boxes, but judging by her grunting and heaving, they must be quite heavy and thus useful for barricading. I tell her to drop them near me so I can slide them against the door. It takes us well over ten boxes plus a couch to completely seal the entrance off. It’s not the most well thought-out construct, but right now it has to do.

I notice that Yuri has collapsed on the concrete floor. She’s panting heavily, and with each labored breath she takes, a quiet sob follows.

“Yuri? Are you alright?”

She nods twice, and although I’m willing to believe her, she looks like she’s on the verge of a breakdown.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes, Michael! P-P-Please, just… give me a moment…”

With possibly hundreds of roamers banging on the loosely barricaded door and other club members unaccounted for, we hardly have any seconds to waste, but feeling that it’s more important for our sanity to rest at least a few seconds rather than immediately push on, I comply with her wish.

Fortunately, she calms down rather quickly. She wipes her face and does some breathing exercises, after which I help her up. She smoothens her coat and straightens her posture, and even though her face is dirty and riddled with tears, she acts as if we didn’t almost die.

“Did you see where the others went? Are they okay?!”

I shrug helplessly.

“I saw Monika unload on the roamers near the first couple of rooms, but other than that I have no idea.”

“Do you have an exit strategy?”

As Yuri looks at me, eyes filled with hope, words get stuck in my throat.

We’re in a horrible shit sandwich; stuck in a room with no telling how many roamers are in the halls, and it’s pretty obvious that just the two of us can’t take them on.

Without answering her, I walk away and begin to take in our surroundings. Everywhere around us are shelves so high that they reach the ceiling. There are tables with computers in one corner of the room. There’s even a resting place with some tables and a coffee maker, but that’s separated by a wall and a glass door. A couple of yards in front of us is an archway with thick plastic strips hanging down from it.

The break room may lead somewhere, but it probably circles back into the pharmacy complex and that’s the last place we should go. The archway seems promising though. Slowly, as all the information finally diffuses into my mind, I realize that we seem to be in a loading area of some sort.

“In here!”

I rush through the archway. I assumed correctly that there’s a massive door leading outside.

“This is it! This is our way out!”

“But what about the others?” Yuri asks, switching her gaze between the door and our barricade. “I know what Monika said, and maybe I’m incredibly foolish for saying this, but we can’t just leave them there!”

I’ve been in a similar situation before – by choosing my life I doomed another. The difference here is that the people with me are the people I love, and I already promised I won’t let anyone down. I’m many things, but most importantly, a man of my word.

At least from now on.

Pushing back all the self-preservation instincts, ignoring my fear of death, channeling my inner idiot, I look Yuri dead in the eyes and say:

“You're right. I have a plan, but I need your help.”

She doesn’t have much of a choice to listen, but impressively, she maintains her stoic demeanor through it. Even though I have my doubts, and even though everything could go awfully wrong, after I finish explaining perhaps the most reckless rescue plan anyone has ever devised, she nods with determination.

“I will assist you, Michael! I trust you. B-But…”

“Good. Let’s go!”

It might’ve been sudden of me, but I can’t stand around and think everything through. The more I think about the next few minutes, the more I'm inclined to reconsider.

I press a button to open the loading bay door. It creaks and rattles, but slides upwards without any troubles. In the meantime, Yuri unholsters both of her knives and runs in the break room. I can already hear the couch move and the boxes fall, but it’s alright. We’re perfectly on schedule.

I walk back towards the barricade and take a moment to concentrate. I wipe my hands clean of blood and sweat and adjust my newly acquired helmet. With each deep breath I take, the couch moves more and more away from the door. When it arrives at about a 45 degree angle, I rile up my new companions.

“Come on, you weak bitches! Is that all you got!?”

I bang at the door a few times with my axe. The constant action helps me to not think about how shit-scared I am.

“Push, motherfuckers! COME ON!”

Hands with fully grown claws rip at the doorframe, jaws full of sharp teeth desperately try to gnaw at the source of the mockery, legs ready to chase the annoying chunk of meat ram through the opening.

“Just look at how fucking tasty I am, you freaks!”

By now Yuri has probably heard all the commotion and is ready for my signal. At least I hope she’s ready, because a moment later a few of the roamers break through and stumble awkwardly towards me.

“Run, Yuri! Run!”

I book through the plastic strips and jump off a little ramp that’s in front of the door. After a rather tough landing I breathe in the cold night air and momentarily glance behind me. The sight of so many roamers chasing me is a terrifying sight, but it acts as a good reminder to keep putting the hurt in my legs and continue sprinting.

The pharmacy complex isn’t the biggest one in this hospital, but I underestimated just how far it stretches. I feel confident the first couple of yards, but as soon as the roamers recover from tumbling off the steep ramp, they start to bridge the gap.

I turn the corner and run towards the entrance we used previously. I can get them stuck there, but this will only give me a couple of extra seconds. As I’m running and trying to keep my distance, I pray that Yuri has made it out okay and finds the other girls.

I finally duck in the stairwell. The roamers I killed before may be of use stopping the ones chasing me, but as I descend the stairs, I stumble on a corpse myself. Although I manage to get up quickly, the growls outside tell me that valuable seconds have been lost. And what’s even worse is that I’m dangerously out of breath.

In an attempt to capitalize on the bottleneck, I put my last efforts into arriving near the pharmacy entrance as fast as possible.

“Sayori?! Natsuki?! Yuri?! Monika!”

I scream their names over and over, but even when I make my way inside the pharmacy, no-one answers me. Desperate to find anyone, I peek inside a few rooms, but these are as empty as the corridor.

Exhausted, hurt, and barely able to keep it together, I come to a conclusion that if they’re alive or here at all, they would’ve answered me already. Putting all my hopes into the fact that they got out okay, I jog back to the vestibule in order to get on the ground floor.

Half a minute spent in there was enough to let the horde gain on me. I barely manage to evade the flow of infected coming from where I entered, and make my way up the stairs, taking two or three steps at a time.

My heart drops when I reach the ground floor. Just as I turn for the lobby, I make contact with ten or so roamers scattered about the reception area, blocking my way out. In the midst of them, I spot a few dead ones, meaning that hopefully some of the club members truly did manage to get out.

Too keen on staying alive to turn around, too exhausted to fight these roamers, in a split second decision, I turn the opposite way. To my relief and complete surprise, across the connection between two hospital wings, I spot a friendly face.

“NATSUKI!” I yell with all my might.

The girl releases her axe from a rather bulky patient and turns to look at me.

“Mike!? What the-…”

“RUN!”

For the second time today she freezes like a deer in headlights, but it’s probably justified – people don’t see 20 to 30 infected rush at them every day. I continuously tell her to run, but she refuses to budge. Only when I pass the connecting hallway does she manage to get a control over her body.

“Mike?! What the shit DID YOU DO?!”

“JUST GO, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

I tug at her sleeve and forcefully drag her with me.

“Where’s the way out?!” she screams while we turn a corner towards the cafeteria.

“I don’t know yet!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I mean I have no idea!”

When Natsuki sees where we’re going, she abruptly stops and shakes her head.

“What? We need to keep-…”

“Trust me, you DO NOT wanna go that way!”

We backtrack to an intersection of hallways and push on towards the surgery department. The progress we’ve made so far has been cancelled out by this move, and the snarling behind us is enough proof of that. What's more disturbing is that while Natsuki is perfectly able to keep a solid distance, I‘m far too tired to meet her speed. It dawns on me that we can't just outrun this horde.

As we turn a corner after another, I recall a tour we had in my high school days. A resident showed us the doctor’s lounge, operating rooms, patient wards, warehouses, cleaning rooms, and other places. If there was ever a need for a room with two entrances, it would be now. The only thing we need is to gain enough time to escape, and trapping the horde in a prepping ward is a possible solution.

I share my idea with Natsuki, and, in-between panting and wheezing, she agrees with me.

“Alright!” I say and stop in the middle of the surgery department, breathing heavily. “There should be a section here.”

“Mike, they’re coming!”

“Wait a minute…”

“Stop fucking around!”

I look behind me and see the horde charge at us about 10 yards away. I rush through a few other intersections until I stop again. The moment I see empty beds in the hallway on my right, I know for a fact I’ve found the right spot.

“Now we just have to lure them in,” I tell Natsuki and run towards a closest ward.

I slide the ward door open and enter the room. There are 8 hospital beds lined up against opposing walls with equipment next to every bed. I can't help but stare at a few elderly patients that are strapped to their beds, probably left to be eaten, but luckily, Natsuki helps me out with that. She delivers a blow to my side.

“Focus, you idiot! They’re right behind us!”

“Right,” I say and shake my head. “You be ready to close the door, alright?”

Natsuki nods and rushes to the other side, knocking aside some canisters in front of her. I only have to peek out of the ward for a second to realize I might be too late with my signal. Despite this, I kick my feet into motion and rush between the row of beds.

“GET READY!”

As I’m running a few feet from the door, I notice that Natsuki isn’t only closing it, but also throwing something in the room. My tired mind is too slow to process this to do anything to stop her, which is why I’m barely able to grab her in my arms and duck.

* * *

_Dear diary._

_Surely you know, people have lots of different hobbies. Some like traveling. Some like to dedicate themselves to poetry. Some like to enjoy a gripping novel. Some play beautiful melodies on multitude of instruments that humans have created. Most hobbies tend to bring relaxation to the person enjoying it._

_“Hey, dickface! How about you stop gargling mad dick on that sniper rifle and help the team!”_

_I do not have one of those hobbies._

_I bring destruction not only by skill in virtual battle, but by fierce thrash talk._

_“Yeah! Get fucked, faggot!” I shout at the enemy team. “You've been eating my shit all night!”_

_But I scream into the void. By the time I end my carefully worded encouragements for future rounds, they have left along with my own teammates. I think the latter didn't find my appetite for victory that charming, or perhaps they're jealous they got carried by me._

_Whatever. Victory isn't for everyone, I guess._

_I quit out the lobby. Even though I'm on a roll, I realize that doing another all-nighter would be detrimental for my health. I can't help but snicker when I look at the numerous bags of chips on my bed. What health?!_

_Still, tomorrow could be one of those Saturdays that begin with me not hating myself for sleeping in again._

_My chair creaks as I let out a loud yawn and look outside. The moon sure is big tonight. Makes for a better atmosphere than just a computer monitor._

_Just as I'm done with turning off the computer, my doorbell rings._

_That's weird. Who on earth could be out there – I check the clock – 2:34 at night? It can't be my parents: they're in Seattle right now, doing another meeting with the Accountants for Animal Safety group. It can't be Sayori: she's gone to the Walworth spa with her mom, and she wouldn't come over that late anyway. It can't be the takeout service: I haven’t ordered anything today._

_I rub my eyes and sigh. I sure hope it's not the sweet old lady down the street looking for her missing cat. I’d hate to tell her that Mr. Mittens died two months ago. I even went to its funeral._

_I weigh my options, but ultimately decide to answer the door. If it is Mrs. Evans and even if she'd forget about me by tomorrow, it would be cruel of me to ignore her. Other neighbors haven’t been that kind to her lately, opting to call the police every time she goes on her adventures. She could get herself into trouble, and while I’m not thrilled about escorting her towards her house so late at night, my conscience gets the better of me._

_Navigating the stairs is a piece of cake until I hit that pesky last step. It always catches me off guard, especially in the darkness. The doorbell rings again when I'm in the living room, limping from a sudden impact with the floor._

_“Fuck's sake, coming already,” I mumble and jog past the coat hanger._

_I open the door only slightly, but seeing the person outside, I pull it wide open._

_“Natsuki?!” I gasp. Although I don't see that well in the darkness, her silhouette is extremely recognizable. “What are you doing here?”_

_Her demeanor tells me that she didn’t really expect anyone to open the door._

_“I-I’m not sure…”_

_We stand like this for a few seconds until something in my dumbass brain aligns._

_It's cold outside, you massive oaf!_

_“Well, why don't we figure that out inside?”_

_I step backwards and let her in. She enters the hallway, but doesn't take off her coat. Instead, she stands near the coat hanger and looks down at her feet._

_“Sorry about the temperature here. I usually turn the heater to a minimum when my parents are out.”_

_But this garners no response. This is getting weirder by the minute, because Natsuki usually has a comeback to everything. Especially to things I say._

_“Would you like something to drink? Tea, maybe?”_

_I think I spot a nod in the darkness. Even if I didn't, this looks like a tea situation._

_I move past her and turn on the kitchen counter lights. I fill up the water heater, grab two cups, and take out a pot of honey and a jar of sugar; despite drinking tea in the club numerous times, I can't for the life of me remember how she likes her's._

_“Why don't you sit down?”_

_She awkwardly shuffles her feet towards my living room and stands near the couch like she doesn’t know what to do next. My question about which tea she'd rather have gets no response, which is why I pick the first packages I see._

_I leave the kitchen to turn on the lights in the living room. She has sat down by that time. The moment I flick the switch, she pulls her head inside her coat. It strikes me as something that a very pink-loving vampire would do._

_“Are you alright?” I ask her, circling around the couch._

_She nods, although unconvincingly. With each step towards her, I get an uncanny feeling that I can't quite identify. Something is obviously off in the picture, and the closer I get, the more I recognize the tenseness in her. She’s noticed me and tries to turn her head away. It’s probably meant to be a nonchalant move, but she shivers so much that it seems extremely forced._

_I arrive next to her. She tries to slide away, but fails as she has run out of room on the couch._

_“Hey, Natsuki,” I try to get her attention, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Is there somethi-…?”_

_Next thing I know, I land on the floor covered in stale cookies and unread newspapers._

_“GET AWAY FROM ME!”_

_If I hadn’t reacted so quickly, I would’ve definitely been gutted by the knife she’s holding. Even now, the blade gleams in the artificial light, shimmering back at me as it quivers violently in the girl’s hand._

_“What the fuck?! What is wrong with you?” I scream, having dodged her swipe, but the moment I get a glimpse of her face, my anger dissipates._

_Her lip is bloody, her left eye is completely swollen shut, her neck is bruised along with her arms. Her coat isn't buttoned up, which is why I notice she isn't dressed for such a weather at all. Everything tells me that she’s been attacked. My first thought is robbery, but that seems unlikely, considering her clothing. She wouldn't leave her home with just a t-shirt and a skirt. Since I can't come up with anything else, I focus on another matter._

_She is so scared of everything that she almost stabbed me._

_“Look… The door is unlocked,” I say as softly as I can, holding up my hand as an attempt to calm her down. “You can leave at any time. I won't stop you, a-alright?”_

_At first, she doesn't react, but when the water heater begins to rumble and whistle, she jolts awake. It takes only a fraction of a second for her to acknowledge what she did. Her dropping the knife and collapsing on the couch tells me that she didn’t mean to do any of it._

_In the meantime, I'm sweating and scrambling for any solutions. I've never had to deal with something like this before, so I don't know what to say or do. I can only sense the seriousness of this situation: every wrong step can make things a hundred times worse. She could get even more scared and leave, only to return to the place she got these bruises from._

_And then I realize that offering her to leave might have been the stupidest option ever._

_With panic setting in, I conclude that never before have I so desperately wished for someone to help me. The moment this thought enters my mind is the moment I realize how stupid I am. There are people out there whose job it is to deal with such situations, and their number is pretty easy to remember._

_I stand up and stumble towards the landline on my living room wall._

_“I should call someone.”_

_“NO!”_

_Her voice echoes throughout the room with such a force that stops me right in my tracks._

_“But you're clearly hurt…”_

_“Don’t!”_

_“At least tell me who did this to you!”_

_“It's none of your business!”_

_I would beg for differ, seeing as she is the one bleeding on my couch almost three o’clock at night, but I stop myself before it’s too late._

_“Did you get robbed?”_

_No reaction, just as I thought. It was a stupid theory anyway. With no new ones in mind, I stare blankly at the kitchen._

_My mind begins to wander. I come to recall a chat with Monika at the beginning of this school year. When I asked her why Natsuki sometimes leaves club meetings earlier than others, she vaguely hinted at her difficulties at home. At that time I didn't think much of it. I mean, some teens have stricter parents than others and that's pretty normal. I certainly haven’t been coddled as much as some, however, this is something way out of line._

_My hand holding the phone lowers when I think about my next action. It could be incredibly foolish and damaging, prompting her to shut down and maybe even leave, but at the same time, it could irritate her just enough that she'd open up. Plus – and I have considerable trouble with admitting it – the curiosity is killing me._

_“Did your father do this?”_

_I hold my breath, preparing for an explosion, but all she does is slump into the couch even more._

_Natsuki seems to be one to hide her troubles, no matter how bad they get, and she's been successful at it for a while. I can't make anything out from her, but seeing as she doesn't deny it, I fear the worst._

_“I have to call the police.”_

_“No!” she shrieks again._

_“Why not?! They can help you!”_

_“He IS the police!”_

_“But I'm not calling him!” I blurt out in confusion._

_“What do you think happens when his friends find out and cover for him?”_

_She has a point. This being a small town, it is important that the communities stick together. A popular unwritten rule is to not inject yourself into other family’s business, which means that instead of getting help, there’s a chance she may get into more trouble than she was before. Reluctantly, I place the phone in its socket and lean on the wall._

_Again, I'm out of ideas. Adrenaline has done its thing and I just feel exhausted. She has sat down again and switches her gaze between the landline and her feet._

_“What happened?”_

_She opens her mouth, but closes it instantly. Instead of trying again, she sniffles and runs her hands over her face. She looks at them with disgust, seeing as they gathered a mix of tears, mucus, and blood. I forget trying to pry any information out of her and push myself up. I return from the kitchen with some tissues, dropping them next to her from a few feet away. She blows her nose and wipes her face while I take my post near the phone again._

_“I-I’m sorry I barged in like this,” she mutters, interrupting the unusually loud ticking of the kitchen clock. “I had nowhere to go. Monika’s in Arizona, Yuri's at her granny’s place. I tried Sayori's house, but she wasn't home.”_

_I almost begin to explain Sayori’s whereabouts, but it quickly dawns on me that it’s probably the last thing she cares about right now._

_“Since you’ve been friends for that long, I imagine she trusts you and all that…”_

_As the clock makes itself known again, I figure she doesn’t have anything else to add._

_“Umm… Would you like to stay here for the night?”_

_She gives me nothing that would tell me whether I’m going in the right direction, but I decide to continue regardless._

_“You can set up shop in my room. Of course, I’ll have to tidy the place up a bit.”_

_After another bout of silence, I decide to leave for my room anyway. It might have been brazen of me to walk away like that, but I couldn’t bear to stay with her for longer._

_Back in my room, I just stick all my excess clothes in the closet, throw all the junk food on my desk, replace the current bedsheets, blanket, and pillow with new ones, and find a towel that doesn't have holes in it. I manage to do all of this in a matter of minutes, despite my closet looking like a bomb went off in there._

_When I return to the living room, I notice she's used up a lot of tissues, most of them to stop the bleeding from her lip. While she's still staring at the wall, I notice she’s not that hunched over anymore, inviting me to believe that she has eased up a little._

_“My room is upstairs at the end of the hallway. Bathroom is to the right,” I say and throw my old bedsheets on the opposite couch. “I put a towel on the bed in case you need to take a shower, but be aware, you might have to wait a few minutes until the water gets warm. The system is a bit iffy like that.”_

_That said and done, I trot towards the landline again. This garners an immediate reaction._

_“What are you doing?! I told you not to call anyone!”_

_“I'm just ordering a pizza.”_

_“At night?”_

_“Yes. I haven't eaten anything today. Plus, it doubles as breakfast.”_

_“You eat pizza for breakfast?!”_

_The combative Natsuki is back, I think to myself and try not to smile. This doesn't mean that whatever happened to her is nullified, yet it brings some hope that she's able to put this behind her. For tonight, anyway._

_“Well, yeah? It's the only thing that goes down my gullet in the mornings.”_

_“Unbelievable,” she scoffs and turns away._

_While I wait for the call to go through, I notice Natsuki occasionally sending glances at my direction. She’s probably making sure that I don’t sneak a message to the authorities, which is why I keep my voice a bit louder than usual. This also helps to wake up the incredibly sleepy customer service person, who has trouble understanding my order, even though I’ve been using the same takeout place for years. Usually I take a pepperoni pizza, but seeing as I have company, I double the order._

_Only when I begin cleaning up the mess of cookies and broken bowl pieces does Natsuki finally stand up._

_“I'll go now,” she mutters and furrows her brows at me. “You better not follow me up there. Understand?”_

_Even with her current situation, she looks mighty threatening._

_“Of course I won’t! And you can always lock the door, i-i-if you feel more comfortable that way,” I stammer, hoping that it would quell at least some anger or mistrust._

_It seems to work. She grinds her teeth and stares daggers into me, but finally turns towards the stairs. Instead of continuing with the cleanup, I grab my pillow and blanket and lay them on the couch._

_I replay the encounter in my head. I'm sure that if Jessica was still here, she would've told me exactly what to say or do, and I could've made Natsuki more comfortable. Hanging amongst tougher crowds had the hidden advantage of knowing what to do in difficult situations such as this. Sadly, Jessica's social intelligence didn't rub off on me that much._

_Looking at the bloody tissues, my heart drops. What I should have done is bring her something cold to put on her eye, some band-aids for scratches, and something to drink to calm her down. But in all the rush I didn't even think of bringing out a first-aid kit or continuing with preparing the tea. There’s nothing to be done now, though. As Jessica so elegantly loved to remind me, hindsight is a total bitch._

_I sigh and take the tissues and the broken glass into the garbage. The cookies and newspapers can stay on the floor for all I care._

_Soon I hear the shower run, and this signals me to get a more comfortable position on the couch. Although I'd like to check up on her after, the better option would be to leave her alone until tomorrow._

_Tomorrow… And then what? What happens to her in the following days? Is it safe at her home? Has this happened before? All these questions and many more barrage me, but I know damn well it's not my business to know the answers. We’ve talked before during club meetings, but all our topics have revolved around manga, poems, or some of the more irritating classmates she has. Anything more personal has never come up._

_Even though the pizzas are on their way, I pull the blanket over my legs. The minimal heating bites me in the ass, but I feel too snug to get up and head to the radiator. I'll probably be alright if I close my eyes for a minute or so, I think, and bring the blanket under my chin. After all, the doorbell will probably wake me up…_

* * *

“Mike! Shit! Wake up!”

My eyelids twitch, but they’re too heavy to open.

“Come on, you dummy…”

Her words become clearer; the ringing in my ears starts to fade. I try to say something, but only a mumble comes out.

I’m gonna try to lift you, okay?”

She tugs at my arm. I shriek in pain.

“Fuck! Fucking shit!” she says while I hear her stand up. “Oh fuck! I need help!”

She delivers the entire swear word vocabulary, but in the meantime, I begin to feel most of my body. While pretty much every part of me hurts, the most painful is still my shoulder. I suspect that Yuri's stitches are all done for.

I succeed in moving my fingers, but my toes are unresponsive. This prompts me to panic.

“I can’t…”

“Mike?!”

I open my eye and try to find her. Everything spins so much that I have to blink a few times.

“I can’t feel my legs…”

She crouches down and I finally see her. The sight is so sobering that I try to get on my elbows, but quickly drop that idea with a grimace.

“Okay, you’re awake at least. Just stay still for now!”

“Natsuki!”

“What?”

“I-I can’t feel my fucking legs!”

“Your-…? Okay, hold on a sec…”

She disappears from my line of sight, only to come back when I feel a tingling sensation.

“There’s a bunch of rubble everywhere. I got you out from under it.”

I attempt to lean on the elbow not connected to my injured shoulder and this time I can manage it.

“Can you feel them now?”

I nod and cough viciously, all the while gray dust hovers everywhere. When that settles, I’m finally able to focus on her face.

Not only is her hair partially burnt, not only is her lip all kinds of fucked up, but her face is so bloody and dusty that it's hard to determine where exactly her nose begins and mouth ends.

“Holy fuck… Y-You look bad.”

“Hey! You should see yourself!” she growls.

“Are you alright?”

She coughs and the same gray dust appears. She waves her hand a few times to clear the air.

“Well, I'm here and talking to you, aren't I?” she scoffs. “Can you get up?”

“I think so.”

But I don't get up. My feet feel fine, my legs are functional, but I spot a huge bloodstain near my upper thigh.

“Mike, it's just a scratch. There was a rock that…”

I barely listen to her. My face must truly express ridiculous amounts of horror, because Natsuki decides to stop talking, yank my free hand, and kind of throw it right on my crotch.

“Jeez, you big baby! It's all there! See for yourself!”

After I recover from my shoulder pain, I check the placement of all the bits and pieces and determine that I'm still whole. The momentary numbness I felt is gone.

“Now come on, perv!”

Although I would like to argue who exactly the pervert here is, her hand has been hovering near my face for the duration of my procedure. I grab her hand with the one connected to my good shoulder and slowly ease myself to stand up. Because of the fact that my feet were asleep for a while, I fall on her for support.

“D’mmit, ‘m sorry!”

“You do realize I'm smaller than you, right?” she grunts, trying to hold me up.

“My head is killing me,” I tell her and touch the warm liquid dripping from my forehead. It seems like the blast took the helmet along with my beanie. “Serves me right for not closing the straps…”

“What?!”

“L-Let me lean on a wall.”

“Hey, moron! Haven't you looked around? There are no walls!”

And she's right. The blast not only took out the infected – there are bodies and bloody remains everywhere – but also the whole ward plus a few other rooms. This means that about half of the surgery department is reduced to dust, rubble, and, looking further away, even water, as sprinklers that didn't blow up in the blast do their best to extinguish multiple fires around.

“Good god almighty... What did you do?”

“Well, there was a grenade we found on another survivor,” she slowly answers. “I figured, why not try it?”

“Couldn’t you have warned me first?”

“I didn’t expect everything to blow up so easily!” she says, defensively. “How the hell did this happen anyway?!”

“Beats me. Perhaps we shouldn’t focus on that too much.”

There’s a silence that’s only broken by the sound of flames eating away at some beds further in the department.

“Mike,” she says under her breath.

“Yes, Natsuki?”

“We got lucky, didn't we?"

“You have no fucking idea,” I say and cough a few times. “Let’s get a move on. The blast probably alerted a few roamers.”

I look behind me where there used to be a huge window. Broken shards of glass still stuck on the frame suddenly begin to reflect sunlight. Despite everything, I know we're going to be alright.

The dawn breaks.


End file.
